


“Two can play at that game.”

by LulaIsAKitten



Series: First Kisses [2]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 21:11:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14679594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LulaIsAKitten/pseuds/LulaIsAKitten
Summary: So I had this idea to write a series of shorts of possible first kisses between these two. Got a few ideas. Feel free to submit prompts for anything you’d like to see in the comments below or over on Tumblr at lulacat3.





	“Two can play at that game.”

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for Kelvindalegirl - apologies, I don’t seem to be able to tag you. Thank you for the prompt.
> 
> “What about Strike and Robin returning from a job on the Tube, they see Matthew and Sarah in the same Tube carriage (purely accidental), Strike decides to take some action.....”

“I think he was there, Robin. I’m sure of it.” Strike frowned, his mind ticking over the possibilities, his large body swaying as the Tube rattled along. It was busy; they were standing closer together than he would have liked, holding the same vertical hand rail. Her slim hand looked so elegant and delicate below his huge one.

They were on their way back from a visual analysis of a building where a safe had been broken into above a nightclub. Strike had identified a discrepancy in the maps of the area the police had used on the case. He was sure now that the suspect their client insisted was the guilty party could in fact have gained access to the back of the building without being seen on CCTV.

“If he...” he began, but was interrupted by a sudden start from Robin. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” It was unlike her to swear, and he was amused at her northern lilt on the word. She was staring past him, and suddenly ducked a little as if to hide.

“What?” Strike started to turn to see behind him, but Robin grabbed his arm, her fingers biting into him. “Don’t look!” she hissed. He turned back to her, amusement gone as he saw her face was slightly pale.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Matthew. And bloody Sarah.” She scowled. “God, how did we end up in the same carriage as them? Shit, I think they saw me.”

The train pulled in to a stop. People squeezed around each other and got off, more people got on. The usual wordless negotiations of everyone finding their own tiny bit of space to stand in. Strike and Robin were turned sideways slightly now and he could see Robin’s ex-husband and his... presumably now girlfriend, from the way she was behaving. They were at the other end of the carriage, out of earshot, but he could tell from Sarah’s body language that she had seen them and was making a display of being with Matthew. Her hand rested on his chest, a smug smile on her face. Matthew briefly looked at Strike and glared, then slid his arm around Sarah.

Strike glanced down at Robin, who was determinedly looking away from them. He knew her well enough now to read the slight slump in her shoulders, the tremor of her lower lip. It reminded him of how she’d been in the last months of her marriage and after she finally left Matthew. She looked sad, deflated, and it made his heart ache.

“You okay?” he asked softly. She grimaced. “Yes. No. I should be,” she said. “He’s nothing to do with me any more. I just haven’t actually seen them together since we split, I didn’t know for sure. And they’re rubbing my face in it.” She was cross now, he could tell.

She glanced up at him. “Ignore me,” she said. “I’m being silly. I shouldn’t let him get to me.”

Strike grinned, suddenly seized by a wicked impulse. “Two can play at that game,” he said quietly, and he slid his free hand into hers, tangling their fingers together. She looked up at him in surprise and saw the calculating gleam in his eye. She giggled. Matthew had been jealous of Robin’s relationship with Strike, suspicious that Strike’s intentions were unprofessional. This would definitely irritate him. Strike smiled down at her, a loving look in his eyes, and even though she knew he was only pretending, her heart fluttered. His hand was warm, engulfing hers, his thumb brushing lightly against the side of hers. She shivered.

The next stop arrived, more people got off. Matthew and Sarah remained, and the train set off again. There were fewer people between them now; Strike was sure that Matthew would be able to see their entwined hands. He smiled down at Robin. “Are they looking?” he asked. He found himself hoping that this game would go on for a few stops more. Her hand felt as though it belonged in his. He saw her gaze flick sideways, then her eyes returned to his, dancing with amusement. “Matthew looks furious,” she said.

“Good,” said Strike. He lowered his head to rest his forehead on hers and gaze into her eyes, his fingers still entwined in hers. It was an oddly intimate gesture in public, and he suddenly wondered if he was going too far. He could smell her perfume this close, feel her breath against his face. A surge of heat ran through him. This game was becoming dangerous. He raised his head a little to look at her properly. She was gazing back at him, her face inches from his, fondness and desire in her eyes. God, she’s a good actress, he thought. It was all too easy to believe that this was real, to lose himself in those clear blue-grey eyes.

The train sailed to a stop again. Robin dragged her eyes from Strike’s. “This is us,” she said. Startled, he looked up. “So it is.” Still holding her hand, he led her from the train, stepping onto the platform. Matthew was glaring after them. Strike cast a sideways, cheeky glance at Robin. “You know what would really piss him off?” he said suggestively.

“What?” she asked, her eyes twinkling up at him.

“This,” he said, and kissed her. He felt her jump in shock, then almost immediately melt into him. He had only intended a meeting of lips, but suddenly it was more as her mouth opened for him and her tongue sought his. The train pulled away behind them, Matthew’s angry gaze ignored as he sailed past. Strike thought dimly that he must stop now, stop kissing Robin, but she was responding to him so eagerly, taking the kiss further than he had intended, her mouth hot, her free hand sliding into his hair.

Strike pulled back as the train disappeared into the tunnel. Robin was staring at him, her breathing uneven, her fingers still tangled in his curls.

“Matthew’s gone,” Strike said, his voice a little hoarse.

“I know,” she said, and pulled him down to kiss him again.

 


End file.
